


The Sound and the Tying

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Watson's Woes [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Plug, F/M, May my fandoms forgive me, Not sensitive to the subject matter, Pre-Slash, Rape, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JWP #18: Words, words, words, not found in the Woe Tables.<br/>My words: punishment, shoved, sound, plug, cave-in, tying, disassociate, prick, fog, electricity.<br/>Read the tags and avoid if even slightly concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound and the Tying

It was, all in all, a different punishment than John had expected. Lady Mercy was a cheap knock-off of Irene Adler; none of the skill, seductive ability, or, frankly, class of The Woman. Where Irene was classically beautiful and used makeup or clothing to enhance the character she’d chosen to play, Lady Mercy was at the mercy of her accessories. Her clothes gave her the figure she didn’t have and makeup gave her luscious lips and daring eyes. Without all that, she’d been invisible in the crowd of suspects. John had noticed her normal face and sedate clothes amongst the throng of clubbers, so he was sure Sherlock would have several comments on her intelligence.

When Sherlock got around to showing up, that was. The berk probably thought John was enjoying this, or at least had gone off with her willingly, intending to get a leg over. Even if John didn’t mind a little creativity in the bedroom, that was different than being drugged, dragged off, and waking up trussed up like the Christmas goose. From the way his dick ached, John was fairly glad he’d been unconscious when she shoved in the sound. 

The anal plug he had gotten used to, even though the metal took a long while to heat up. Did she refrigerate the thing between uses? Did she clean it? He could get through this, if he could just disassociate from the arousal he felt and avoid coming. Lady Mercy considered it a mercy to kill her mate after orgasm. Normally, John’s favorite way to go; but not with this bimbo. Some secret part of him had started to hope it would be at Sherlock’s hands; a kinky little experiment gone wrong. And thinking of Sherlock encouraged him to orgasm, so he went back to disassociation. 

Maybe, her little sex dungeon would cave-in, killing them both. Or at least scrap off some of the layers of makeup she’d applied after tying him up. Above him, she seemed to grow bored with dripping burning wax on him. He suspected this was a good thing as she was on her third candle and he was starting to crinkle. Now came the pricking of Wartenberg Wheel, the pins leaving designs around the wax splatters. He forced himself not to grunt or wiggle, nor did he dare allow himself to think of what experiments Sherlock could find for that device. 

Mercy shrieked at him, an inarticulate noise of rage, a different kind of sound than the one in his cock. 

John let his giggle out. He’d scolded Sherlock for teasing tormentors yet here he was, doing the same; not taking her seriously. 

She responded by dropping the Wartenberg Wheel and reaching for an electronic wand. No foreplay or chance to prepare was allowed; she simply touched it to the metal sound in his cock. 

John arched off the table and screamed. The electrical current was limited in the wand but it arced between the metal of the sound and the metal of the anal plug. John was caught in a feedback loop between the pleasure and pain, yet unable to come because of the sound. 

The electricity suddenly stopped and John floated back down into the embrace of gravity. Hands and feet tied together and under his back, John didn’t know he could move that much. He also didn’t know why the electricity had been cut off until could focus again and see something like Sherlock’s face. It was Sherlock and his ever-changing eyes, but said eyes seem to be lacking any pupils. Or were they all pupil and no iris? 

“Look at me, John.” 

John wished he was capable of coming, as he would have simply from the new depths reached by that chocolate and velvet voice. 

“Just you and me here, John. I’m going to take the sound out. Whatever happens, is fine, right?” 

John had no idea why Sherlock was asking, or what even, he really was asking, but he nodded anyway: it was Sherlock. 

A musicians hands gently eased the sound out and then traced a light touch up John’s frenulum. John screamed again as he came, accepting the resulting fog of bliss as his due. 

When he returned, he’d been untied and covered with something warm and heavy. He suspected, once he had corralled enough brain cells to suspect, that it was Sherlock’s coat over his naked body. And, no, it wasn’t just the two of them. There was a paramedic looking at his torso and a second one hidden by Sherlock’s coat, as the berk was holding it up as a privacy curtain. Most of Scotland Yard’s finest were ambling around with blushes on their cheeks. Mycroft’s dark suited goons weren’t blushing at having witnessed John’s orgasm; he didn’t envy them their training program. 

Sherlock’s eyes had irises and pupils again but he was still watching John with a predatory interest. If John didn’t know better he’d think it was desire at seeing John spread out like a sexual buffet. Sherlock noticed John’s looked and glanced away. Actually, he glanced down and saw the bit of John hidden under Sherlock’s coat. Sherlock licked his lips at the sight, and took a long moment to look away. 

John gave a lazy grin, but started planning. He wouldn’t be up for much until he healed and certain test results came back, since he hadn’t been conscious for his whole ordeal. There would probably be more psychological issues to work out as the attempted rape caught up with him. But, once he was ready, John was going to prove he was right; that was desire in Sherlock’s eyes. 


End file.
